A Run with the Inquisition
by N. Kage
Summary: A Space Marine squad, from the Warhawks First Company, rescues an Inquisitor but gets more than a thank you.
1. Enter the Inquisition

I claim no ownership to any Games-Workshop material used here.

Erasmus stalked forward across the stream, the water sloshing around his armored feet, a startled fish swimming away. On his flanks, his squad followed his lead, listening for anything that might betray the orks location. Even with his Lymans ear filtering out extraneous noise, he could hear nothing. It was unlike orks to conceal themselves like this; usually one could hear them from a mile away. Erasmus was wary of this, the orks were probably in ambush, and he did not want to blunder into it. A hiss of static sizzled into his ear, the vox had been going in and out in these damn woods and he had lost track of Scout Squad Regna, which had pushed forward to investigate a down savior pod, that came from an Inquisitorial ship in orbit.

"Serge…Erasm,… ca…you…hea…me? Thi…is…Sergea…Regn…" a voice came through the vox, interrupted by hisses and moans of static, occasionally the crack of gun-fire cut through.

"Yes, go ahead, Regna, I can hear you." Responded Erasmus quickly, the gun-fire in the background was probably not a good sign, since Regna squad was only five strong.

"Erasm,…the…ork…wer…wait…need…assist…now. Our…locat…wil…foll..." With that, the transmission ended, but Regna's coordinates came through anyway in a burst transmission on a VHF channel.

"Alright, squad, we are moving out in support of Regna. Stay on your feet, who knows what the hell is out there." Erasmus gestured to the south, deeper into ork territory, were Regna was fighting for his life.

The underbrush was thick, and most of the plants had nettles, or thorns that rattled against the power armor the Marines wore. Erasmus ran through them, uncaring of ambushes now, the orks were most likely being drawn to Regna's position. Behind him, his squad charged with him, Gunner's Morenas and Jorres at the fore, where their flamer and plasma gun would be best.

The sounds of battle were increasing now, numerous bolt reports, the crack of the orks crude slug weapons, and the whoosh of a flamer. Crude orkish war cries were filtering back, shaking leaves off the trees. One cry rang true over the orks, and it was:

"DEATH COMES FOR YOU!"

Erasmus drew his chainsword and cycled it, the engine whining and singing, and swung it over his head, gesturing towards the scout's position and answered the cry with one of his own:

"FOR THE EMPEROR!"

Erasmus charged through the trees, foliage smacking against his face and slowly him slightly, but he kept going, after all, his Battle-Brothers were deep in the fighting, and no Space Marine would leave a Brother to die. As he cleared the crest of a low hill, he was confronted by quite a sight. The scouts were in a semi-circle, with their backs against the savior pod. A tall man in a black storm-coat was with them, as well as a half-dozen heavily armed men, an old, robed man, and a woman in the livery of the Sisters Hospitaller. The man in the storm-coat exuded a calm aura, even though dozens of orks were attacking them. He gutted two, maintaining the calm aura, as if he was in ablutions, or eating breakfast. Erasmus thought it was disconcerting, but that did not matter.

Erasmus charged down, into the rear of the orks, his chainsword swinging left and right, cleaving apart the nearest orks in a shower of dark green blood, their bestial howls alerting the rest. One giant of an ork, with armor riveted to his body, turned and swung a gigantic hydraulic claw, almost shearing him apart. Erasmus thrust his sword, and sliced up, flaying open the ork. Morenas was firing his flamer in a nest of the green bastards that had set up some kind of heavy stubber and sending thick chains of fire over the heads of the scouts. The ammo detonated with a fiery flash, vaporizing the crew, and leaving a blackened crater five paces across. Jorres was at Morenas's side, his plasma-gun shrieking as it recharged, the plasma coils glowing red. Erasmus raising his bolt-pistol, and sent a dozen bolts into a group of the orks counter-charging his squad. Three of the orks went down, their crude armored jackets worthless against the mass-reactive bolts.

Four Brothers stood in a firing line, pumping dozens of rounds into the remaining orks, who were split between the scouts and Squad Erasmus. The orks went to ground, their crudely fashioned rifles chugging. The man in the storm-coat ran forward, his retinue fanning out beside him, bolt and hell-guns blazing. The orks did not quietly, turning around and opening fire on the easier targets. Two of the mans bodyguards fell, their torsos shredded. The man also took a hit, but remained on his feet.

Erasmus rallied his squad and went over the greet Sergeant Regna, but the bloody man stepped into his way. Then, the man raised his palm, and an Inquisitorial electoo flashed into focus.

"Are you Sergeant Erasmus Harkon?" the Inquisitor spoke, his voice serious, but still eerily calm.

"Yes, yes I am, Lord Inquisitor." He responded hastily, even Space Marines had just cause to fear the Inquisition.

"First of all, I cannot claim the title of Lord Inquisitor. Second, my name is Mikal Kovash, and you are coming with me…"

Erasmus sat quietly, with his hands folded in his lap, in the Inquisitorial void-room. Inquisitor Kovash strode around him, his hands behind his back, maintaining the damn aura of calm. After the scouts had been rescued, the Inquisitor had taken Erasmus to an orbiting Battle-ship, the name of which Erasmus had not caught, stripped him of his armor and weapons, and left him in the void-room for several hours, before Kovash came.

"Do you know why you are here, Sergeant?" the Inquisitor began, leaning against a low table that ran the length of the small room. Erasmus remained silent for a moment, thinking.

"No, no I don't." he said at length, he could think of nothing that he had done to warrant Inquisitorial attention.

"Some time ago, when you were involved in the re-claiming of Greta Major, you lost your arm to a chaos (he frowned when he said the word) daemon or rune sword, is this correct?" The Inquisitor continued; his face impassive and unreadable.

"Yes, yes I do remember this incident,' unconsciously, he flexed his bionic arm, still immaculate and unmarred, 'But I don't understand why that would concern the Inquisition. No offense meant, of course."

"You see, Sergeant Erasmus, Chaos corrupts all it touches, whether it is flesh, steel, or spirit,' he said the last word with a slight strain in his voice, as if remembering something, 'when the daemon/rune sword cut off your arm, it may have corrupted you, be it your flesh, your mind, or your soul. I have been sent here by my masters to determine if you have been corrupted, and if you have, remove your taint, permanently." As he finished, he stared hard into Erasmus's eyes, as if staring into the Marines soul.

Erasmus sat back. The Inquisitors words had unearthed so many questions. What if he was tainted? What if he spread his taint, if he was tainted, to his Brothers? How would the Inquisitor test his purity? Would he be found pure? So many passed through his mind, but one came to his attention.

He spoke softly, anger straining his voice, "How will you test me?"

The Inquisitor quietly stood up, rubbing his left arm and

This information is classified. Access denied. Inquisitorial mandate required for access.

Just as an aside, I do plan to continue this, so don't flip out. N. Kage


	2. The Mission

I claim no ownership to any Games-Workshop copyright material here.

Two weeks after Erasmus was released by the Inquisition

Erasmus strode purposefully towards his quarters. It felt like it had been ages since he had honored his war-gear, or fought in battle, but it had been a mere two weeks. He shuddered for a moment. What he had gone through to prove he was pure of heart and free of taint was horrendous. Physical pain, mental tests, even psychic examination, but no taint was found, and he was released from Inquisitorial battleship where he had been held.

Softly, he opened the door to his quarters and beheld his war-gear for a moment. In the far left corner of the room, his armor stood, empty and dormant, waiting for him to reclaim it. On the other side of the room, his bolt pistol and chainsword sat on racks set into the wall, calm and quiet now, but before long would be caked in blood and filth. It was good to be back.

Silently, he knelt in front of his armor, whispering a prayer to placate the angered machine spirits. For long minutes he prayed, and after his prayer, he began to clean the armor, even though it was immaculate. Slowly and carefully, he cleaned each piece, pouring oil and unguents over the surface. Then, just as slowly, he donned the armor, starting with his boots, and ending by donning the helmet he rarely wore. Turning sharply, he shifted to his weapons, cleaning those in the same fashion. Just as he was about to go to the firing-range and test his weapons, one of his Marines, Gunner Jorres, the plasma-gunner of his squad, stopped him.

"Sergeant, I am glad to see you have made it back, but an Inquisitor is asking for you." Jorres looked almost concerned, his face in a slight frown.

Erasmus cursed under his breath. The damn Inquisitor just wouldn't leave him be. "Where is he?" Erasmus said coldly, his teeth clenched.

Jorres lead Erasmus to an out of the way briefing room, where the rest of his squad was waiting, as well as Veteran Squad Topes. Standing in the center, next to a large holo-projector, was Inquisitor Mikal Kovash. All eyes were on Erasmus, and everyone, save Kovash, saluted him as he walked in.

His teeth still clenched, Erasmus spoke softly, "You summoned me, Inquisitor Kovash?"

"Ah, yes, Erasmus. I'm glad to see you well, after our little 'conversation.' But, this is far more important." With that, Kovash turned on the holo-projector. First, there was nothing but static, but Kovash struck the side of the projector with his fist. The image flared sharply into focus. It was a large building, shaped like a gigantic eight-pointed star.

"This is the Temple of the Chaos Light. Before I was reassigned to deal with Sergeant Erasmus's case, I was searching for this building. I have found it planet side. Inside the Temple is an alter; built on what my sources tell me is a portal to a daemon world in the Eye of Terror.' Kovash paused for a moment, as if trying to recall information, 'Most Inquisitors would just destroy the planet, but the orks, my sources once again tell, believe the alter to be to one of their twisted gods, and are offering it blood sacrifices. This fresh blood is opening the portal. Any questions?" Kovash paused again.

Erasmus spoke up, "What does this have to do with our squads?" he indicated Squad Topes as he spoke.

"Ah, I was about to go on to that. I plan to attack the orks at the Temple, and destroy the alter, sealing the portal. Since I do not have enough forces to undertake this operation, I am enlisting your squads to help. Now, you will find data-slates with more detailed information in all your quarters. Dismissed."


	3. Objective found

To my reviewers, I realize Kovash is a Tau name. I was not thinking about this when I wrote it. I was thinking about the Inquisitors full name: Mikal Gregor Kovash the III. See, it sounds less Tau now. N. Kage

Shaking like a leaf in the wind, the Thunderhawk plunged through the atmosphere, heat shields glowing red. Inside its armored hull sat a score of Space Marines, and a group of Inquisitorial followers, as well as one Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor. Their objective, as still obscured by distance and severe cloud cover was not visible from a porthole. Occasionally, lightening would split the sky, and illuminate the dark, night sky.

Sergeant Erasmus calmly checked his bolt pistol, making sure the magazine was inserted correctly, and that the machine spirits were properly placated. As the Thunderhawk pitched over another thermal, he quickly put the pistol back in the grox hide holster on his side. Having loaded weapons out and about during a rough landing was a good way to shoot someone, especially those damn Inquisitorials. There were three hard-bitten Imperial Guard veterans, two chanting Ecclesiarchy Priests, and one…something. It looked like it was formally a man, but something else was inhabiting the body. It was draped in heavy chains and wards, and would occasionally scream in an unnaturally high voice. Erasmus almost shot it when some of the chains it was bound in began to move on their own. Now, he tried not to look at it, but instead thought about the mission details. They were to land about one kilometer south of the Temple, fight their way into it, destroy the alter, and escape, meeting another Thunderhawk two kilometers east of the Temple on a plateau. Aerial pic-steals had revealed numerous ork war bands in the area, possibly inside the Temple. Survivability was rated as low. Erasmus smiled to himself; it was just another day as a Space Marine.

"Fifteen seconds to landing," Came the serf-pilot's disembodied voice over the intercom. The Thunderhawk was shaking badly now, one of the Priests vomiting all over the bay, splattering the Guard veterans, who cursed loudly. Inquisitor Mikal Kovash quieted them with a hard stare. The veterans just cursed under their breath, as they tried to clean the vomit from their matt-black carapace armor.

"Alright, Marines,' began Sergeant Topes, 'we all know how important this mission is, so I expect you all to do your duty. Praise the Emperor."

"Praise the Emperor!" bellowed every Marine in the bay, crashing their right fists over their breasts.

Erasmus felt his grav-harness tighten, and he braced himself for landing. With a bone-jarring jolt, the Thunderhawk touched down with a shriek of landing thrusters and the whoosh of super-heated air. With a clang, the hold's door shot open, the explosive bolts set into the frame functioning perfectly. The grav-harness's holding open the squads shot off, and Erasmus lead his squad out first, following the attack plan.

Even with his occulobe, Erasmus had trouble seeing in the pitch black, raining night. Only when lightening opened the sky, and thunder shook the air, could he see well. Several shapes flickered in and out of cover about one-hundred meters to the front. Silently, he motioned Topes forward and pointed out the direction of the movement. An acknowledgement rune flashed on the retinal display in his helmet. The dark green armored Marines moved forward as silently as possible, their armored feet barely disturbing the puddles of water. One of the Marines paused a moment and wiped the water from his helmet visor. Just as the squad was approaching where Erasmus saw the movement, a dozen muzzle flashes lit the night.

"Damn green skins were waiting!" Erasmus heard Topes curse into the vox. A melta gunner in the squad fired his weapon, and the thermal beam cut a swathe through the firing green skins. At least four were killed, instantly and painfully turned to fiery ash. Both groups were firing; the muzzle flashes so bright Erasmus felt his retinas involuntarily snap shut. Squad Topes charged forward, Topes at the front, his chainsword squealing. Erasmus could see little of fight, but another rune flashing on his display told him that Topes had finished the filthy beasts.

"Inquisitor, we have secured the site," Erasmus glanced back into the Thunderhawk as the Kovash strode out. He was wearing a full length, black storm-coat, lined with flak plates; his hands in tharr-hide gloves and around his waist sat a holstered bolt-pistol and some form of sword. Silhouetted against the light of the bay, he struck an imposing sight. Around him, the Priests huddled close, as if afraid of what the darkness might hold, while the Guard vet's kept an eye out.

The Inquisitor spoke, his voice a clarion call over the peals of thunder, "You all know the plan and the objectives, so I need not repeat those to you. Those who fall today shall always be remembered in the Inquisition as heroes. Do your duty to the Emperor." It was a short speech, but it cut home, even to Erasmus.

Squad Erasmus and Squad Topes fanned out in a diamond formation, with the Inquisitorial band in the center. Few orks were in the strike forces way, and those were easily dispatched by bolter, chainsword or combat knife. Erasmus consulted his auspex after twenty minutes of rapid march. According to the screen, they were within half a kilometer of the Temple, but Erasmus did not trust the technology, for auspex's had failed him before.

A sudden, bright muzzle flash caused him to drop to a crouch. A chattering autocannon of some sort had opened fire on the advancing party and was sending thick chains of fire at Squad Topes. Erasmus reacted quickly, flanking through a river bed that was choked with run-off. He jogged forward, every sense on overdrive, closing in on the position. A group of orks cut him off, armed with crude rifles and stick grenades. He raised his bolt-pistol and opened fire, the bolts shrieking through the air to kill two of the foul beasts.

"Purge the beasts, Brothers!" he shouted over the sound of the rain. Gunner Morenas used his flamer to flush the green skins into the open, where the bolters of squad felled them all, the orks blood turning the river to a sick, green color. Swiftly, Erasmus ran forward. He was to the right of the gun, the shear brightness of the flash causing his retinal display to darken and blind him. Cursing, Erasmus wrenched the helmet off. He could see the two ork gunners clearly, feeding the crude autocannon belts of heavy shells. He motioned Jorres to the front. The plasma-gun armed Brother needed to orders. He raised the ancient weapon to his shoulder and opened fire, the balls of glowing plasma immolating the crew and igniting the ammunition, lighting up the area like a torch.

"Advance Brothers, even a blind man would see this." Two clicks in his vox bead alerted him. He put his helmet back on and felt the seal hiss. A rune flashed on the display told him it was sealed perfectly. Squad Topes and the Inquisitor rejoined him. A quick head count told him no one was injured.

Before they had gone two hundred meters, the gigantic Temple loomed. Erasmus motioned everyone down and zoomed in his display. The image was out of focus for a moment, but cleared. He could see dozens of orks milling around a larger figure, who was gesturing towards the flames behind the Inquisitor, while firing his crude pistol in the air.

"We may have been spotted. We need to hook left to avoid them, and them we might be able to gain entrance to the structure." Erasmus said hurriedly. They would do the Imperium no good if they let a planet die.


	4. Mission completed

"Here they come again!" shouted Brother Korpes, of Squad Topes. Topes had died about three hours ago, just as they had penetrated the defenses around the Temple. He had been blown apart by a missile. Five other Marines were dead, as well as some of Inquisitor Kovash's retinue. They had managed to find the alter, and Kovash and his priests were working to close the portal, while Squads Erasmus and Topes were holding the one corridor to the alter. It was lined with bodies of orks.

Erasmus leaned right from behind a wall and firing his bolt pistol into the charging green skins. This wave was lead by dozens, if not hundreds, of little slave creatures, most likely 'gretchin'. Gunner Morenas took care of those with his flamer, ending gouts of purifying flame down the corridor. The air was filled with the stench of burning flesh. From behind the smoke, charged orks. They were armed with crude cleavers and several threw stick grenades, but none landed near the battered Marines. A Marine from Squad Topes fired a thrumming melta-gun into the press, blasting a hole that was soon filed up by more orks. Gunner Jorres fired his shrieking plasma-gun, and sent goblets of burning plasma into the screaming orks. Another stick grenade soared in, this time landing in the midst of them. Brother Kirlin, of Erasmus's squad, dived on the grenade and curled it into his stomach. The grenade went off with a dull crump and Kirlin was thrown backwards, the ceramite on his torso shredded beyond recognition, his dark red blood mixing with foul green ork gore. The orks fell back, leaving another fresh pile of bodies, but every charge got further and further down the hall as the Marines ammo began to run down.

Erasmus heard the chanting from the large room the alter was in and wondered how long it would be before Koresh and his bloody Ecclesiarchy priests would take to close the damn portal. They had been in there for almost two hours, chanting and praying. Occasionally, thick clouds of incense would billow out. He resisted the urge to burst in there and demand to know what was going on, but Koresh had given him specific instructions not to go in and interrupt, because it might have catastrophically bad results. They might be here all night.

The battered and bleeding group of Marines saw off two more assaults over the next hour, losing two more Marines in the fighting. Ammo was getting to be scarce, especially flamer canisters. Erasmus took a heavy slug round to his helmet and he had to pull the shattered lens of one of his eye pieces out of the bone around his eye. He would probably lose the eye, unless he got back to the Apothecarion soon. Which would be unlikely.

The chanting stopped suddenly and the silence was engulfing. Koresh burst out of the room and screamed "We have failed! The portal is open!"

Erasmus turned back, confused by the Inquisitors words, and glanced back into the alter room. And the sight almost drove him mad. The portal was open and it looked out into a screaming, braying mob of daemon-kin. Screaming the Prayer of Deliverance, he raised his pistol and emptied it into the mob. No effect. Turning, the rest of the survivors pumped hundreds of rounds in the daemon horde as it tumbled out of the portal. Dozens of daemons must have fallen, but there were so many, so very many… Snarling, Erasmus reloaded his pistol and emptied it again. A gigantic daemon, probably a daemon prince or something charged at him. He ducked the first blow and swung his chainsword in an upward slice, gutting the daemon bastard. Laughing, the daemon prince chopped down with a massive, rusted cleaver. Erasmus rolled out of the way, but the cleaver took off the bottom inch of his foot. Screaming in rage, Erasmus rolled to his feet and stabbed the sword through the rend in the daemons belly. The chainsword stuck there, lodged in the daemons spine. Gunner Jorres pumped plasma rounds into the daemon, burning off huge chunks of flesh. The daemon reeled and Erasmus reloaded his pistol. Glancing at Koresh, he saw the Inquisitor was fumbling with a device on his belt.

A whoosh of wind, then total blackness. Then, a loud pop, and Erasmus was starring face to face with an ancient tech-priest. Erasmus laughed out loud. The Inquisitor had a teleport homer and had used it to transport the survivors out. Then, he stopped. One of his Marines had ended up outside the marked lines on the teleport pad and was neatly cut in half, exposing layers of armor, muscle and bone. With a wet sound, the Marine collapsed into a pool of blood.

Koresh ran past the tech-priest, but Erasmus no longed cared. He had survived one of the hardest missions he had ever been on, and faced down a greater daemon and survived. In the 1st Company, only Captain Mepesto and Chaplain Kylan could claim that.


	5. Reprocussions

I once again claim no ownership to any Games-Workshop material used here. This is taken from the book I'm working on, and I was not planning to add to the story on FanFic's but, after SabreJustice's review, I was compelled to put it up.

Erasmus now found himself dragged to the Council chambers, his armor stripped from him and his weapons taken away. Treatment like this only happened to those who truly violated the Chapters tenements, not those who aided an Imperial Inquisitor!

A Marine in the white and gold livery of a Veteran opened the doors to the Council Chambers, and beckoned Erasmus to enter, the Veterans hand hovering next to his holstered bolt pistol.

The Council chamber was a huge, vaulted room, the ceiling stretching away for at least twenty meters. Every square foot of the room was covered in either devotional script, or images of the Chapters previous battles. One scene showed the now Captain Mepesto striding through the daemon lines at the Battle of Hell Gate, the Banner of the Second grasped in his hands.

A great marble table dominated the center of the chamber, seated around it were twenty Space Marines, their armor ornate and ancient. These were the council members and those without helmets had grim faces, some back-lit by psychic hoods, or had wreaths around their foreheads. These were some of the Chapters greatest heroes, Captains, Chaplains, Librarians, the Chief Tech-Marine and the Master Apothecary, who had hundreds of years of experience and battle behind them.

"Do you know why you are here, Sergeant?" a gravelly voice spoke. He could only be Chaplain Plutus, who had retaken the Cerebus Sector from the daemon Styx. With his words, every head in the chamber turned as one to look upon the robed form of Erasmus.

"No, Honored-Brothers, I do not." Erasmus was little nervous now, what if his dealing with the Inquisition was not the reason he was there?

"Sergeant,' another deep voice spoke this time, it was Librarian Charon, 'your recent mission with the Inquisition has violated one of the basic rules of our Chapter. You obviously do not remember when the Inquisition tried to investigate and imprison our entire Chapter!"

"My Lords,' began Erasmus, 'I still do not understand why aiding the Inquisition would incur your wrath. The Inquisitor my squad and I aided was not trying to disband our chapter and imprison us. He was trying to stop a terrible calamity from befalling one of the Emperors…" Erasmus paused a moment, he had raised his voice to the Council, which was insuboration.

"Continue, Sergeant," a metallic voice spoke. It was Chief Tech-Marine Geryon. His throat had been shot out by an ork and replaced long ago by bionics.

"Forgive my tone, Lords. I was merely saying that the Inquisitor I was aiding had been trying to stop orks from opening a portal, which lead to a daemon-planet, on the world. He did not want to sanction an Exterminatus."

"Lies!' snarled Plutus, 'The Inquisitor corrupted you with his heretical actions and was trying to open the portal to harness the power of the daemons inside!"

"Calm yourself Plutus.' Master Apothecary Minos spoke softly, 'Our only evidence is Sergeant Erasmus's testimony. We cannot place baseless accusations at one of our Marines and…" The Apothecary was interrupted by the great stone doors of the Council chamber opening.

It was another Veteran. "My Lords, I beg your forgiveness for interrupting, but a report has just come in from the _Emperor's Fury_." The Veteran stepped forward and handed the data-slate to Captain Loras, of the Third Company.

Turning the data-slate on with his armored thumb, Loras's open face was lit by the green glow of the screen. As he read, his face went from impassive to furious in a moment.

"You say he did not want to sanction an Exterminatus, correct?" Loras's hand was shaking slightly, but he did not let anger into his voice, yet.

"Yes, sir. He did not want to destroy one of the Emperors worlds." Erasmus was slightly confused now, hadn't he just said this?

"That damn Inquisitor destroyed the world! Four million Imperial subjects and whatever Guard units were left! Even though you helped him, he still killed the planet! The good Marines that we lost were all for not!" Loras was standing up, shaking the data-slate at Erasmus, his voice echoing loudly around the room.

"Lords, I had no idea that he was going to do this. I shall accept any punishment you deem necessary." Erasmus hung his head in shame. He could have told the Inquisitor no when he enlisted his squad and squad Topes.

"One hundred days of physical penance and fifteen days of meditation and prayer shall be your punishment. However, your penance will be postponed until your next campaign is over" Chaplain Plutus spoke instantly, his voice harsh and unforgiving.


End file.
